


Yew, Ash, Willow, Apple

by MalevolentMagpie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Codependency, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Ghost Sex, Ghost Shiro (Voltron), Ghosts, M/M, Magic, Married Couple, Necromancer Keith (Voltron), Necromancy, Necrophilia, SHEITH - Freeform, SPOILER TAGS FOLLOW - Freeform, Sheith Halloween 2020, Skeleton Sex, Skeletons, Sort Of, Tags Contain Spoilers, TrickOrSheith, Wide net tags:, Witch Keith (Voltron), Witches, consensual skeleton sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentMagpie/pseuds/MalevolentMagpie
Summary: It is a late fall morning, and the air holds that magical chill that seeps into one's bones and rouses the spirit. Keith wakes up and makes preparations for his favorite way to spend a lovely evening at home.For Sheith Halloween 2020, Prompt Day: “Skeleton.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 34





	Yew, Ash, Willow, Apple

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot stress this enough, It Gets Weird. “Wholesome necrophilia” pretty much sums it up. Only read if you are ready. And if you are, I recommend not reading the spoiler tags for the full effect.

Keith woke that morning feeling the moon. That was good; sun days always made it harder. Just in case, he still stepped out into his backyard, wrapping his blanket tight against the autumn chill. The pale, overcast sky dulled the colors of the world, and all he could feel in the air was the cold. Cold. Cold. Cold in his bones, numbing his fingers, stealing his breath, leeching his warmth. Perfect.

He made his way towards the large yew tree in the corner of his yard, stopping to pick up the third fallen ash leaf he happened to step on. Then he carefully set the leaf on one of the yew branches and retreated back into the house. 

Still buzzing from the icy fingers of fall, he moved deftly through his kitchen, making his coffee through stifled yawns. It turned out too bitter by far and would have benefited immensely from a touch of magic, but he held back even that much. The key purpose of coffee was the warmth and the caffeine, anyway. He gripped the mug with both hands, relishing in the heat seeping into his fingers. The cold was a necessity for his occupation, but never  _ comfortable.  _

Once he’d had breakfast and coffee and felt more alive, he bundled up properly and once again braved the outdoors. From the shed he pulled the newer shovel, the one with the ergonomic design that was less likely to give him those painful blisters, along with his neon pink gloves and a rusty iron nail. Then he set to work unearthing the relatively loose dirt beneath the yew tree. Loose or not, it was still hard work; he was panting and sweating in no time, and asking himself whether he might soon be getting too old for this. Maybe it was time to consider a different arrangement. The lacquered redwood box was just as he had left it, lying at the bottom of the hole, immaculately clean. Keith climbed in to fetch it, and dropped the rusty nail in its place. It was tempting to wait until later to return the dirt he had removed, but he just  _ knew _ he wouldn’t want to come back out later and have to interrupt movie night. So he made quick work of burying the nail, then cradled the redwood box in his arms and headed indoors. 

Within the box was a bag of rich, red velvet, looking as new as it had on the day Keith had bought it. From this bag he lovingly pulled each pristine white bone and gave it a featherlight kiss before setting it before him on the bed. When the bones, large and small, lay all before him in an artful heap, he took another sip from the coffee mug on the nightstand and cracked his knuckles.

Yew, ash. Keith cast out for the world, and the world answered back. Holly, rowan. He threw his arms wide, palms up. Silver night, cold, cold. The air shifted, and he pulled. Cold, so cold, cold all around him. He pulled, kept pulling in. Silver, gold. Gold, so gold. A golden day that spread out endlessly around him. Before him, the bones stirred, then lifted, dancing in a gentle whirl, slowly lifting themselves up higher and higher, rearranging, coming together, up and in and together until finally a skeleton stood fully formed on the bed. Willow, mistletoe, applewood. The bones shuddered together, and sparked awake as the air closed in on itself in one final snap.

Keith released his hold on the world, and slumped forward in exhaustion. The skeleton dove forward and kneeled on the bed to catch him in its arms.

“Mornin’ babe.”

“Mornin,” mumbled Keith sleepily as he leaned up to place a gentle kiss on the skull’s eternal grin. 

“It’s gotta be  _ Hocus Pocus.” _

Keith groaned. “Shiro,  _ no.  _ Come on, we just watched it a few weeks ago. What is even the point of watching a movie when you can already quote every line? At this point, you could pretty much perform the entire movie as a one-man show.”

“There doesn’t have to be a point,” answered his lovely skeleton with his usual warm cheer. “Seeing something all the time doesn’t mean you have to ever get tired of it.” If Shiro had had the flesh needed to be able to wink, Keith was pretty sure he would be doing it now, at Keith.

“Despite you having no skin, I can just tell exactly the expression you’re making.”

Shiro shrugged. “Know me too well, I guess. Or maybe it’s… the eyes of  _ loooove.”  _

Keith laughed and extricated himself from the stiff embrace. “Oh, shut up. And actually, that’s not too far off so don’t joke.”

“Is there really a magical specialty that uses love as a base?!”

“You know my specialty you lucky bastard, so you know that if ‘love magic’ did exist, I wouldn’t know. But that’s not what I meant. I mean that I can sort of see you as you are, not just your pearly whites.” 

Shiro hummed thoughtfully, looking down at the hard remains of his mortal body. “You’ve never mentioned this before… So to you I look alive? Flesh and blood and everything?”

“Not quite. I can see your skeleton too, but not at the same time - not together. The images are sort of superimposed, always shifting. Like that visual illusion with the duck and the rabbit, but instead of switching cleanly between one and the other, my perception’s always stuck in that one millisecond where you can conceive of both images at the same time, and hold neither.”

“That doesn’t give you a headache?” Shiro climbed off the bed and stretched his arm bones up, as if there were still muscles on them left to stretch.

“Nah. How could it?” Keith slid off the bed too and passed in front of his husband with a wink. “You’re…  _ easy on the eyes.” _ The lilt of Shiro’s snort was music to Keith’s ears. 

“I thought  _ I  _ was supposed to be the one with the bad jokes!”

~~~

Eventually Keith caved and they did indeed select _Hocus Pocus_ for movie night, on the condition that Shiro was the one to set up their customary blanket nest and make tea. 

“No popcorn?” asked Shiro as he burrowed under one of the fluffiest blankets. Keith had no idea how he managed to be adorable as a skeleton, but it was not surprising in the least. Shiro could make anything adorable. 

“Why do you care? You can’t eat it.”

Shiro’s bony jaw protruded slightly forward in a facsimile of a pout. Cute. “But I like the soft crunching sensation when I bite it!”

Keith sighed overdramatically and made a show of lifting his arms high and pushing himself off the sofa. “Fine, I’ll go make some, but you’re the one who’s gonna clean all the popcorn bits that fall through you. I refuse to tie a grocery bag to your ribs again to catch the debris - last time we tried that, it looked ridiculous. Go ahead and start the movie.”

“I’ll wait for you!”

“For the love of god, Shiro. Because of you I’ve already watched this movie more times than any self-respecting human should. I  _ know _ the beginning,” he called from the kitchen. 

For all his token complaining, these were the evenings Keith lived for: snuggled up against his loving husband on the couch, watching a movie, chatting low about anything and everything and nothing all at once. Keith and Shiro were lucky after all. Theirs was the domestic bliss that most of the world could only dream of. 

“Poor Thackery Binx,” murmured Shiro two hours later while the ghost boy and his long-dead sister were reunited on the screen. 

“Mm?”

Shiro didn’t face him. “He had to live for so many years without interacting with anyone. How did he keep from losing his mind?”

Keith squeezed Shiro’s rattling hand a bit tighter. When that failed to get a response out of his despondent lover, he shifted even closer until he was almost on Shiro’s rigid lap. With his nose, Keith nuzzled against the hard, dry grain of his cranium. 

“You’re not alone, Shiro,” he whispered. “I know I’m not the best company to be stuck with, but-”

Shiro jerked back. “Keith, are you kidding me? If there was  _ anyone _ on this Earth I would choose to spend the rest of my days with, it’s  _ you.  _ I said that on our wedding day, and I mean it even more now. I can’t believe my luck, that because of your abilities it actually happened to be you I was ‘stuck with,’ as you say.” His shoulders relaxed into a soft stance as the tips of his finger bones lightly skimmed up Keith’s thighs. When they reached the plush juncture of his hips, he gripped the flesh tightly, possessively, then just as quickly released it with a sigh. “It’s a different matter for  _ you _ to be stuck with  _ me.” _

Keith tensed. Not this again. He hated the conversation that always came after, and Shiro knew that. Keith could already see him steeling his pose with grim resolve.

“Keith,” he tried. “You have to let me go. It’s been years, baby. You deserve to find happiness again, go on real dates, outside, in a restaurant-”

“We  _ are  _ happy!  _ I’m  _ happy! We were having a perfect evening until just now! And if you want a date, almost every restaurant nowadays delivers! What do you want? I’ll call right now!” Keith pulled out his phone as if to emphasize his point.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it, Keith. It’s not about what I want. I’m dead! My time is over! By rights, I shouldn’t have had a single second more after my heart stopped beating. Every sleepy morning kiss, every movie night, every moment with you since then has been a stolen miracle - a gift I don’t deserve. But  _ you… _ You deserve to have the kind of love that can keep you warm, protect you, build with you a family and a community.”

“No, no,” Keith whispered. He could already feel his eyes stinging with a familiar warmth. “I don’t want that. I want  _ you.  _ I need you. I can’t live without you, Shiro. I’d sooner follow you than move on from you.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare.”

Despite his best efforts, Keith found himself choking on a whimper. Soon he was hyperventilating, taking desperate gulps of air in an attempt to calm himself. 

“Don’t… leave me,” he gasped, even as his body was racked with sobs. “Not yet. Not ever… I can’t… I can’t.”

Shiro wavered for a moment, as if he would hold onto his steely resolve for Keith’s own good. But Shiro’s weakness was ever, in death as it had been in life, caring for Keith. His brittle frame slumped in resignation as the fight left him, leaving only pure love shining in his face. 

“I’ll never give up on you, and I’d never leave you behind alone, Keith. I’ll be here for as long as you need me.” And he sealed his promise with the cold kiss of death.

Little by little, Keith’s crying died down, ebbing away with each gentle touch of Shiro’s teeth on his face, neck, and shoulders. Blinking through his drying tears, he met the next kiss with his lips, letting his hands wander reverently across the porous surface of his lover’s shoulder blades, then down across his arms, gently tracing the beautiful curve of his pelvic girdle. 

A tremor ran through the skeleton. “Keith…” he said in warning, but Keith merely stood up and tugged his husband towards the bedroom. “Keith, don’t give me those fuck-me eyes - remember what happened last time?”

“Ok so we won’t use the strap-on this time.”

“Not the point,” Shiro groaned, but didn’t stop Keith from pulling him down onto their bed.

Without once breaking eye contact, Keith began shedding his clothes with enticing leisure until he was on full display for Shiro, lying back against the pillows and breathing heavily under the skeleton’s rapt attention. “Shiro,” he murmured. He let his fingers trail down through the hair below his navel, down across the inside of his thighs, and up to cup his balls. 

“Keith…” Shiro’s voice came out strained. Keith loved the effect he could have on Shiro even now. 

“You know the drill, Takashi. Tell me what you want.”

In a second, Shiro lost the last of his reservations. “Touch yourself.”

Obediently, Keith wrapped his fingers around his dick, exhaling on Shiro’s name as he slid his hand up and down the shaft. From the bedside table, Shiro fetched the bottle of lube, letting it drip onto Keith. Keith’s hand sped up, gripped tighter. 

“That’s my good boy,” Shiro cooed. “Now tease yourself.” He positioned himself above Keith and lightly pinched one nipple between his phalanges. 

Keith whined. Applying more lube to his fingers, he circled his hole with a featherlight touch, awaiting permission. When Shiro nodded, he slipped in a finger, still stroking himself with the other hand. It was good, always so good to do this with Shiro, but tonight was one of the nights in which he wanted… more. 

“Sh- Shiro,” he slurred. “Can we- please-?”

He had the distinct impression of Shiro frowning as he paused in his merciless nipple teasing. “Please what?”

“The femur-” 

“Keith!”

“Come on! I’ll shave it down then return it back to normal! I promise that after we finish it’ll look exactly the same as before. Just like the last time, remember?”

“What I remember is that, last time, you fell asleep immediately after and I had a dildo-shaped thigh bone for two days until I nagged you enough to change it back.”

“Oh it attaches magically to the other bones - what’s the difference.”

“I felt ridiculous.”

“Ok fine, your humerus then. Smoother head - minimal modification.”

Shiro sighed and relented, plucking his right upper arm bone from where it was floating beside him and grabbing the bottle of lube again. 

Even lubricated, the humerus was still rough and porous, but that was how Keith liked it. He quickly cast the usual protective spell for his insides and practically yanked Shiro back on top of him. Unlike tools designed for the purpose, Shiro’s bone wasn’t an ideal shape to ease the initial insertion. But it was Shiro, it was a part of him, and the idea of any part of him inside Keith was so appealing that Keith felt instantly highly motivated to work himself open to get the hard knob past his rim. 

He slid more and more fingers inside himself until finally he couldn’t stand it anymore and started easing the rounded head into himself. The stretch was just shy of too painful; Keith loved it. 

“Damn, look at you baby. So desperate, you’d fuck any part of me, wouldn’t you?” Shiro whispered in his ear. 

Keith whimpered in agreement. With a final, gentle thrust, the rest of the head breached him, and he threw his head back as the bumps and curves carved their shape into his canal. “Shiro…!”

“Shh, I’m here,” his loving husband soothed. “You’re doing so well, Keith. So good for me. I always knew you were made to take anything I gave you.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Keith chanted, high and reedy. 

Shiro took control, using his left hand to thrust his right arm bone in and out of Keith. Keith, meanwhile, pumped his length in his right hand in ever-increasing fervor. The delicious scrape against his rectum and the smooth, wet slide of his dick in his hand built on one another, lifting Keith higher and higher, until he felt like he, too, transcended his physical body. In that last moment of lucidity, he aimed, and then he was spilling, dousing his beloved’s skull with warm devotion.

“There’s quite a lot. You’ve been pent up lately,” Shiro noted. 

Keith hummed, regarding his handiwork dreamily. Shiro’s face was splattered. As he watched, a small glob of semen dripped from the top of one of Shiro’s eye sockets onto his cheekbone. Keith stretched a hand to lovingly caress his love’s delicate cheek; Shiro had good bone structure. He moved his thumb in lazy circles, mindlessly rubbing his warm semen into the cold, dry bone. 

“I love you, Shiro,” he cooed. “I love you forever.”

“I love you too, baby,” said Shiro softly, fondly, as if he hadn’t just given Keith the boning of a lifetime. “‘Til your death do us part.”

THE END.


End file.
